


For As Long As We Live

by salamadersaurus_rex



Series: Broadway Agents of Themyscira [3]
Category: Agent Carter (TV), Wonder Woman (2017)
Genre: F/F, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 00:40:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11680407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salamadersaurus_rex/pseuds/salamadersaurus_rex
Summary: johan25 on Tumblr asked for: "Is there anyway you could do a Peggy/Angie/Diana Prince story involving the three starting a polyamorous relationship?"





	For As Long As We Live

**Author's Note:**

> The restof the prompt: "Plot could involve Diana knowing, and loving, Angie for a few years, introducing her to Peggy, as she wants Angie to love someone who can grow old with her, only for Wonder Woman to join them as the years pass from time to time, showing them her love for the two of them and her glee at finding out that they're getting married in their old age, shocked when they propose to her."

New York is different. A good different, the kind that fights to forget the horror of two world wars, to fill the world instead with art and music and the desire to move on.

The sky is dark but not with London's somber smog, or the gunpowder clouds still hanging over Europe. It's just... night. And Diana's not sure she'll see the stars for a while in a city this big but when she whistles for a cab the same way Antiope taught her to call a horse she names the constellations in the bright neon lights that splash red and gold beneath its wheels. 

The cabbie complains about the traffic as they crawl through the city. Complains that he missed dinner and a movie because some Wall Street hack didn't want to pay his fare. Diana tips well when he drops her down the block from Swing Rendezvous and he tugs at his cap like the little news boys in London. 

Diana watches him drive away before she heads to the bar, shoulders relaxing when she steps inside and lets the atmosphere envelope her. George is at the piano coaxing warm, low melodies from its keys, music filling the bar like sweet smoke. The lights are down low, shadows curling catlike in the corners. 

It's early, and there's only a few girls in shirtsleeves hovering round the bar. Diana joins them, orders a Daiquiri with a little extra sugar. 

"Hey, sweet tooth," an older Black woman Diana knows from the Howdy Club says. Older in the sense she doesn't know Diana's lived for centuries. 

Diana just smiles. The woman's girlfriend is working the bar and they chat as Diana sips her drink. 

"Angie's coming in tonight."

"Think she'll give us a song?"

"You betcha. She's an audition tomorrow."

"I hope she gets it. Poor dame deserves a break."

Over at the piano George picks up something livelier, and before long Diana's tapping her fingers on the bar top. 

"Dance?" The older woman asks, and Diana takes her hand. 

"You're makin' me jealous Deb," the bartender jokes. "Save one for me, Prince."

Diana lets herself be led out onto the floor. She dwarfs Deb, whose hands are light at her waist, so she rests her forearms on her shoulders. 

"Still got sad eyes Diana," Deb says. "You wanna talk?"

She doesn't. "Let’s just dance."

She'd fallen in love with jazz the moment she set foot in the city. It's the kind of beat she's used to and she doesn't sway anymore, not when from the small stage across the room the band starts up, when Deb tries to spin her and they end up a giggling, tangled mess in the middle of the floor. Diana dances til her partner's panting and holding up her hands in mock surrender. 

"I need a drink, Prince."

"Want me to carry you to the bar?"

"I ain't that old." She pats Diana's elbow, points out a slight brunette just walked in the door. "Hey, Angie's here."

"The singer?"

"That's her. Go get us a peach schnapps and a whiskey will ya?"

Diana dutifully heads to the bar as Deb collars Angie, bundles her over to the piano where George is taking a break, watching the band play and the crowd grow as more people stream in the door. 

Angie rolls her eyes but whispers something in George's ear anyway, and George nods, must tell Deb to quiet the band because she starts heading over to the stage as Angie takes off her coat, leaves it on top of the piano. 

"Alright, shut it!" Deb yells into the mic. "We have a very special guest at Swing Rendezvous tonight, she's got pipes like an angel and the gams to match. Angie Martinelli!"

Angie must sing often, Diana thinks, because there's a swell of applause as Angie makes her way to the stage, winks at Deb when she bows and backs up from the mic. It dies down when Angie clears her throat, and she's left under the stage lights in silence. 

There's a nervous jut to her jaw, but when she nods at George and starts to sing Diana can't think of any reason in the world she'd be scared. She has the most beautiful voice, strong and full of emotion. Diana shivers when Angie's eyes slip closed, the piano picking up and the crowd roars as she throws herself into the chorus. 

Three quick thuds behind her distract Diana long enough for her to tear her eyes from the stage. 

"Whiskey for Deb, schnapps for Angie, and a Daiquiri for the lady who looks like she's falling a little bit in love."

"She has a beautiful voice," Diana says. 

The bartender winks. "Yeah she does. Unattached, as well."

"I'm not sure I'm her type," Diana says. Meaning Steve is still fresh in her mind. Meaning she's lived through two world wars and she knows she'll live through more. Meaning that sweet girl with a mouth full of songs deserves someone softer than a warrior.  

"Diana you're everybody's type."

The last few high notes of Angie's song drift off into silence. Then the bar erupts, cheers and applause and shouts of encore ringing up to the rafters. Angie curtseys, grins and hurries off the stage, and almost immediately the band strike back up. 

It takes Angie and Deb almost five minutes to fight their way through Angie's adoring crowd, and by the time they do Diana's almost finished her drink. 

"Angie Martinelli," Deb introduces them. 

Diana takes Angie's hand and shakes it, doesn't miss the way Angie looks at her but doesn't mention it either. Instead she gestures at their drinks. 

"You have a beautiful voice, Miss Martinelli," Diana says. 

"Thanks," Angie replies, taking her drink, her eyes still taking in Diana. "Haven't seen you round here before."

Diana holds out a hand, Angie delicately shakes it, her skin cool from the drink. "Diana Prince."

"Diana's here all the time," Deb says. 

"Must keep missing each other. Shame." Angie sips her schnapps. 

Over Deb's shoulder Diana can see a pretty girl in a red dress whispering with some friends. One nudges her forwards and she trips, catches herself on the bar before tapping Angie on the shoulder. 

"Buy you a drink, beautiful?"

Angie barely takes her gaze off Diana. Deb chuckles. "Save your money, doll."

Diana shakes her head. "Take the drink, Miss Martinelli."

Angie's jaw clenches just the tiniest bit. She blinks, and nods. "Gotcha. Miss Prince."

She turns away from Diana with a smile on her face for the girl in the red dress. 

"Still got this one," she holds up the glass of peach schnapps. "Care for a dance instead?"  

The girl looks thrilled, takes Angie's proffered hand as Angie saunters away, a little extra sway in her hips. 

Deb waves a hand in front of Diana's eyes. "Prince! What the hell?"

Diana plays with the rim of her glass. "She deserves someone better than me."

Tossing back the last of her drink she leaves some change on the bar top for Deb's girl. Both of them gape at her as she gathers her coat and starts to make her way through the crowd. 

"Diana!" Deb yells. And any other time Diana would turn. She'd tell Deb she has a headache, she's had too much to drink and not to worry, she'll see her next week but Angie swirls past clinging onto a pretty red dress, drink spilling carelessly over her hand and all Diana wants is the cold New York air on her tongue. 

So she pushes her way through the whirling bodies and out the door, the last few notes of the song curling out behind her and dampened into silence by the rain. She scans the street for a cab but it's empty save for a man at the far end hurrying down the pavement. 

The door swings open, releasing a burble of jazz and warm air, and quiet voice saying, "Little old me scared ya off, huh?"

"Miss Martinelli."

Angie waves her hand. "Angie, please. Miss Martinelli is my father."

Diana can't help but chuckle. Angie squints at the sky, at the droplets of rain scattered like stars in Diana's dark hair. 

"You not cold, Prince?"

Diana just shrugs. "I like the rain."

"Grew up somewhere tropical?"

"Something like that." Diana smiles. 

Angie gives her a cheeky grin, reaches out to tug her from the rain by the sleeve of her coat. The guy from earlier nearly walks into her and he grunts something rude. Diana just ignores him, rests a hand on Angie's shoulder before she can get herself into trouble. Angie pouts, and Diana slides her hands back into her pockets, leaning against the wall. 

"What do you want?"

Angie frowns. "To talk to you. Can't let the most beautiful woman in the room take my breath away and run off with it."

"I see why so many people like you."

"Cheesy does it for you huh." Angie's still frowning though. "Is it me? Cause if it is just tell me and I'll go."

Diana shakes her head. "No, Angie. I'm just... not what you need."

Angie peers around them. The street is once again empty, rain splashing loudly on the tarmac enough to nearly drown Angie's voice.

"You sure?" Angie presses closer to Diana, biting her lip. 

Diana nods, sucks in a breath. "Not right now, anyway."

Angie nods, steps back but only a little way. "Well Diana, when you are ready... I'll be here."

She smiles, just a small one and waves, pushes open the door to the club and the next second she's gone, and Diana's left with the memory of her voice and a long walk home. 

* * *

 

Diana goes missing for a few weeks. Angie worries like hell. She kicks herself for it, half-hearing orders and pouring cold coffee because she's a sucker for accents, and now she's scared for a woman she barely knows. It's not like she can tell Toadface Too-Much-Cologne that, when he chews her out for spilling coffee on the table. Sorry mister, it's tough out there for women, even tougher for queer women and my mind's just on other things, like the bottom of the river.

The guy doesn't leave her a tip, leaves her a mess to clean up but at least he promises not to come back. Her boss'll be at her throat for losing a customer but damn good riddance, Angie thinks. She wrings out a damp cloth and starts at a yellow dribble of egg yolk, rubbing til she can make out the colour of her uniform in the chrome edging. The ring of the door barely registers as she moves to a ketchup splatter that stains her cloth red, and she doesn't hear the first quiet request for coffee.

"Martinelli! Coffee!"

"I'll give you coffee," Angie grumbles under her breath. "Right down that starched white collar of y- oh."

She's sat in the far booth, suit crisp against the leather and a quiet smile on her face. "Hello, Miss Martinelli."

"Thought I'd told you to call me Angie, Diana."

Diana touches her fingers to the rim of her fedora. "Angie."

"Wha- uhh, what can I get you?"

"A cup of coffee, please."

Angie grabs the pot and a mug from the stack on the counter, splashes a generous amount into the mug as she walks over, thinking about slamming it down on the table before she realises her boss is leering at Diana out the corner of his eye.

“Thank you.”

Angie leans over Diana, her cloth poised. “Let me get that for ya miss- where the _hell_ have you been?”

“I told you. I needed time.”

Angie lowers her voice to a harsh whisper. “Yeah yeah to become better for me, whatever. I’ve been worried sick! Which I ain’t prone to doing with someone I just met, doesn’t matter how pretty and muscly they are.” Angie scrubs angrily at an imaginary stain. “So you’d better explain yourself, Prince.”

“You were worried about me?” There’s an amused grin on Diana’s face. Angie misses the sad glint in her eyes.

“Yeah. _I_ told _you_ , remember?” Angie glances around her. They’re alone, her boss gone in back once he realised Diana’s attention wasn’t on him, probably. Angie still lowers her voice further, til it’s barely a breath. “I like you.”

Diana nods. Angie leans back, folding her arms. The damp cloth is still in her hand, and it presses against her ribs, seeping. “So?”

“So what?”

Angie huffs out a breath, squeezing at the cloth til she knows there’s a damp patch growing on her uniform. Diana’s smirking at her, and god this woman got under her skin like a song stuck in her head, but damned if she wasn’t going to let this play out. “So go on a damn date with me, Prince.”

Diana’s smirk turns into a full blown grin. “Okay.”

* * *

 

Angie drags her to Central Park at eight pm on the coldest night of the winter so far. She’s bundled up so tightly her breath barely escapes as stream of fog from between the thick knitted scarf around her chin and the hat pulled low over her eyes.

“How are you not cold?” Angie complains, trotting next to Diana who’s dressed in just a suit and trench coat.  

“I like a little frost,” Diana chuckles. “Are you going to explain why we’re here?”

Angie guides her down a path nestled beneath an arch of trees, thick, empty branches like cracks in the dome of the sky.

“You’ll see.”

“It’s dangerous, out in the dark late at night.”

“Somethin’ tells me you can take care of yourself. And me, I hope.”

“I would never let anything happen to you, Angie.” Diana says seriously.

Angie reaches out a mittened hand and pats Diana’s elbow. “Appreciate it.”

The path opens out into a little meadow, thin grass stretching away up a faint rise, sparkling softly with frost and when Diana looks up, the little pinpoints of white are reflected back in the sky.

“Oh, Angie,” Diana whispers. She waits til Angie’s distracted fiddling in her many coat pockets before she lets her lower lip tremble, half with a smile, half at the sight of the stars. Something in a glass bottle swishes and Angie presents a half bottle of rum with a flourish.

“I’m more of a schnapps girl but this was all I could scr- oh god.” Her face falls at the sight of a tear clinging to Diana’s eyelashes. “What? Is it the rum? It’s not that bad I promise Betty gave me the good stu-mmpph!”

Diana cuts her off with a kiss. Angie’s lips are cold, but soft. She makes a tiny sound at the back of her throat, brings her hands up so she’s got her arms wrapped round Diana’s shoulders and she clings on, keeps Diana right where she is because her mouth is so warm and god she kisses so good. Diana’s hands come to Angie’s waist, barely there but Angie feels like she could let it all go and Diana would keep her standing.

Diana’s the first to pull back, and Angie pouts because she could kiss Diana for days. Diana wraps her arms more fully around Angie, and Angie lets herself be drawn into a hug, snuggling against Diana because it’s damn cold. And Diana feels so nice.

“So you like drinking in a field at the ass end of winter huh?”

Diana kisses the top of her head. “I like _you_.”

* * *

And so one date turns into two, turns into nights at the Howdy Club dancing til their feet are sore, turns into Diana spending Angie’s shifts in the far booth draining the coffee pot and reading the paper front to back. Angie’s calls them friends so her boss asks Diana out, more than once, and Diana politely turns him down every time, until after a couple of weeks she mentions a boyfriend, some guy called Steve and he backs off.

“Thought we were exclusive,” Angie jokes as she pretends to clean Diana’s table, the backs of Diana’s knuckles running absently down her thigh over her skirt. “Who’s Steve?”

Diana just hums, seemingly lost in her paper. “Di?”

“No one. I… someone.”

Angie’s heart feels like it’s taken an all-expenses paid trip to her stomach. Diana still won’t look at her.

Angie clears her throat. “So do I get to meet him? I realise we never said we were an item, I just assumed, stupid ya know because who isn’t gonna fall for you and I ain’t gonna stop you if that’s what you want…” Angie trails off. “Is that what you want?”

Diana looks at her with the saddest eyes Angie’s ever seen. “Will you come home with me after work? I have to tell you a story.”

* * *

Angie cries. Starts half way through and doesn’t stop, shaking against Diana who holds her, strokes her hair and gently pulls out the pins, lets them clatter to the floor like bullet casings.

“I didn’t… god Diana, I didn’t know I never would have- have,“ she hiccups. “Shit look at me. The love of your life dies and I’m the one losing it.”

“It’s a lot to take in.”

“Oh the super soldier crap I can get behind. It’s the rest of it.” Angie wipes furiously at her eyes. “You lost your whole world, you’re so strong and I sat there and didn’t see how goddamn sad you were.”

Diana kisses her, tastes the salt on her lips like the taste of the sea. “I didn’t want you too, Angie. I care for you deeply, I never wanted to burden you.”

“Then why talk about him so casually? In the automat I mean.”

“I wouldn’t have but…” Diana leans her head against Angie’s. “I met someone. It’s eerie, how war can take people in the same way. Over and over again. We… talked.”

Angie sniffs, uses Diana’s shirt sleeve to wipe at her eyes. “Yeah?”

“Her name is Peggy. I think you’d like her.”

Angie chuckles wetly. “Is this you sayin’ you want a threesome Prince?”

Diana smiles, her shoulders getting lighter and lighter as Angie’s smile grows. “Perhaps not now. But I’d like you to meet her.”

Angie nearly chokes. “ _Perhaps not now_. That’s what you get growin’ up on an island of women, I guess.”

Diana laughs. “I just mean you might not be attracted to her. I just want you to… have someone. Lover or no.”

“I got _you_.”

Diana’s smile fades. “For as long as you live. But Angie, I’ve lived for a very long time.”

“Figures.” Angie pouts. “So you’re gonna be young and beautiful when I’m ninety three and yelling at you to feed me soup?”

“Yes.”

“Better be damn good soup. This Peggy, she ain’t some mutant with two heads and a lifespan of a million years?”

“No. she’s human.”

“Hmm. Okay.”

“So, you’ll meet her?”

“Fine.”

* * *

Diana’s a big fat liar. Peggy Carter’s not human, she’s clearly another goddess from the island of Themy-whatsit, she just has a different accent.

And she’s kind, in the way that makes Angie preen because she doesn’t seem to be so kind to anyone else. She’s gorgeous, gentlemanly, offered to buy Angie’s drink which she didn’t say no to because L&L ain’t the best employer, and Angie’s been babbling on for a half hour and all Peggy’s done is smile and listen like it’s the most important thing in the world.

Angie shakes her head. “Tell me about yourself, English. I’m hoggin’ the stage.”

Peggy lets out a breath. “Oh, there’s not much interesting about me. I was born in England, I came here after the war to work at the telephone company.” She falls quiet, takes a sip of her drink.

They’re at Swing Rendezvous, the light low and glinting warmly off Peggy’s whiskey. Angie’s a drink in, cheeks pink. In the corner George is playing some soft, sexy piece, a lone saxophonist on stage accompanying him.

“Love this song,” Angie muses. “Makes me think of walking down an empty street, big snowflakes fallin’ like stars… you get snow in London, English?”

Peggy laughs. It’s quiet, sounds like she hasn’t used it in a long time but the smile on her red lips is genuine. “Yes, we get snow.”

Angie spots Deb, sneaking behind the bar to wrap her arms round her missus. “Think it’s going to snow soon.”

“I hope so,” Peggy murmurs. “The way you describe it, it sounds beautiful.”

Pales in comparison, Angie thinks.

“How’d you meet Diana?”

“I needed a drink, after work. We met at a bar and got talking.”

Angie makes sure there’s no one in earshot before she murmurs, “And you know about… everything?”

Peggy nods. She smiles again, eyes going off to that distant place Angie sometimes catches Diana going. “She’s a good person.”

Something in Angie’s gut pokes at her, insistent. Might just be the drink but looking at Peggy, really looking cause she’ll be damned if she misses the same sadness she missed in Diana, all she can think of is how Peggy and Diana would look like looking at her together.  How nice it’d be to have both hands held at once, blocking up the pavement, and how two bodies would feel pressed against her own.

“You wanna come to my place, Peg?”

Peggy’s smooth, Angie’ll give her that. She almost manages not to spit out her mouthful of whiskey.

“Perhaps we should learn a little more about each other, first.”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s just, Diana setting us up.”

Peggy gives her an amused look. “I know.”

“Thing is, and I think we both got this, thing is that leaves Diana on her own. And I don’t want Diana on her own.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“I work at the automat but I wanna sing on Broadway. I live in a boarding house. Too much rhubarb pie makes me sick but I eat it anyway.”

“Angie?”

“There, you know more about me. I wanna know more about you, you have to tell me about London and the war if you want and where you got that hat, but also, also… I want you to know more about Diana. And me, clearly, but there’s something in my belly and it won’t shut up about how _damn_ much I want the both of you.”

Peggy gapes.

“So?” Angie asks, suddenly uncertain because there’s no way she can ask two incredible women out one after the other and get a yes both times.

“Yes.”

Or maybe she can.

* * *

Diana flies over to Angie’s. Scares the bejeezus out of her and gets a raised eyebrow from Peggy when she knocks carefully on the window, but it was the fastest way she could get there after Angie’s call.

“What’s wrong?” Diana asks as soon as Angie opens the window. She slips inside, notes how Peggy’s sat with her shoes off on the bed, top couple of buttons on her blouse undone. “You didn’t say on the phone.” 

“Nuthin’.”

Angie leans over Peggy and grabs the pillows off the bed, tossing them on the floor to make more room. “Sit.”

And Diana’s the daughter of a queen, Peggy’s a decorated officer but they both still jump at the command. Diana sits down next to Peggy, the both of them keeping a little bit of space between them out of habit.

Angie grabs her desk chair and flips it round so it’s facing the bed, sits down firmly. “I want a threesome.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then Diana breaks out into loud guffaws, slapping her thigh as she roars with laughter. Peggy’s grinning too, at Diana’s antics and Angie’s confused, adorable face.

They wait for Diana to quiet, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes as Angie says, “Are ya done?”

“I know you’re a forward person Angie, but I wasn’t expecting _that_.”

“Why not? I like you, I like her. I want to date you both.”

 Diana’s face screws up in confusion. “Wait.”

Peggy clears her throat. “Angie, darling, are you saying you want to court us both?”

“And I want you two to _court_ each other. Am I not making myself clear? I can say it again.”

Diana chuckles. “No, Angie. We just thought you meant you wanted to sleep with us both at the same time.”

“Oh I do, I just don’t know what you call three people dating so I figured…”

“Threesome.” Peggy winks at her. “I mean, as long as we all consent.”

Diana chews her lip. “Angie, I wanted you to have someone to grow old with. That’s not me.”

Angie scowls. “Shut it, Prince. I decide who I want to date. It’s like English said, so long as we all consent. And I consent to dating you, to falling in love with you and growing old whilst you fly around saving the world. And Pegs? I don’t know you half as well but I consent to finding out every little thing about you, and seeing where this goes. Got it?”

Diana salutes, and Peggy lazily winks. “Got it.”

Angie lets out a huff of breath. “Good, that’s sorted. Now what?”

* * *

They played cards. Angie lost every game, convinced her lovers were cheating with their special skills. Diana promised she wasn’t. Peggy didn’t say a thing. Then they fell asleep, or Angie did, nestled between two warm bodies, who shared amused looks over her snoring head.

They went out together, got drinks together, stayed up talking til midnight together. Peggy moved into the boarding house, Diana barely slept at her own. And then Leviathan happened, whilst Diana was away in Europe and when she came back, everything was different.

For one they lived in Stark’s mansion. For another, Peggy’d told Angie she was in love. The only thing that didn’t change was that they were adamant to keep Diana in the relationship.

“You ain’t going anywhere, Prince,” Angie promised from between Diana’s legs as Peggy held her wrists down. “Not now and not out of this relationship.”

So Diana stayed, with them when she could, and when she couldn’t her little taskmaster and her agent would wait for her to come home. Peggy revealed her work at the SSR after her first trip to Europe. Told her about her plans for SHIELD as they lay together in the dark, Angie not yet home from work and Peggy aching for Steve, curled in Diana’s arms with the blinds closed and their heartbeats beating as one.

“I love you, Diana.”

“I love you, Peggy.”

“I still love him but… there’s room again, for you and Angie.”

“She’d build it herself if she had to.”

“I love her so much.”

“As do I.”

When Angie got her first play, Diana met the pair in London. She roared with laughter when Peggy hurled a man who’d upset Angie into the Thames, swooped down to pull him out and give him a talking to.

As the years went by, as Stark’s mansion became a home, Diana began exploring more of the world. Her girls wrote her letters, called her as phones became better, smaller. After Stonewall Diana made sure to return to New York every summer, and she’d march with her head held high and Angie and Peggy’s hands holding hers.

She missed Peggy’s first grey hair but she was there for Angie’s, and by the gods did Angie scream. She screamed louder when Peggy burst in with a shotgun, Diana following behind with shield and sword and Angie yelled “cut it out!” until Diana obliged.

She wasn’t so fussed, after that. She was hugely successful, popular and loved as an actress and a writer, selling her ‘completely fabricated’ script about a secret agent and superhero falling in love. When she came out as a lesbian (although of course she’d never hidden it) sometime in the 80’s there was backlash, yes, but after a few choice words from Diana and Peggy in the dead of night, scripts and job offers came rolling back in.

She loved them both for so long she barely noticed their aging until Angie fell and broke her hip. And they fixed it, Peggy refusing to leave her side the whole of her recovery, Diana bringing her chicken soup as she requested, but after that she handled them gently. That lasted about a week until Angie pushed her into a wall, Peggy with that glint in her eye following afterwards, because nothing kept Angie Martinelli from getting what she wanted.

July twenty fourth, 2011, Diana answered her phone in the middle of the night, several time zones away, to excited screaming, sobbing, and cries of _we love you, come home now_!

Diana rushed to the house, ignored the door and flew straight in through the bedroom window to find Angie and Peggy in bed, wrapped in a tight embrace with the tv on loud for Angie’s poor hearing, the banner at the bottom of the screen reading _New York Legalises Same Sex Marriage._

Peggy notices Diana first, happy tears streaming down her face as she watches her two elderly lovers celebrating what they’d fought for for so long.

“Marry us.” Peggy says.

“She’s here?” Angie disentangles herself from Peggy. “Yeah Prince, marry us.”

Diana slides onto the bed and pulls them both in for a hug. “It would be my absolute honour to officiate the wedding of my two best friends.”

Angie and Peggy pull back. Angie fiddles with her hearing aid. “What’d she say?”

 _She wants to officiate_ , Peggy signs, and Angie rolls her eyes. She turns up her hearing aid. “And I thought you were clever, Prince. We don’t want you to marry us, we want you to _get_ married _to_ us.”

Diana look of confusion fades slowly, replaced by a grin growing wider and wider, eyes growing brighter and brighter with tears until she’s crying, pulling them back into a tight embrace and whispering _yes, yes, yes_.

In a private ceremony that afternoon, after Angie and Peggy ‘officially’ marry in the courthouse, after Tony pops a bottle of champagne for his godmothers, and the skies rumble and somehow all the Avengers cram into Peggy and Angie’s living room, Diana finally says her vows.

Angie sobs through it all, Peggy puts on a brave face but there’s tears settled in the wrinkles by her eyes and Diana? Diana just smiles, her heart so full of love and happiness, for the two women who let her spend their lives with them. Angie and Peggy slip a ring onto her finger, a simple band of silver, and Diana can feel the etching on the inside against her skin. _We shall love you. For as long as we both shall live._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for the prompt! I'm on Tumblr salamadersaurus-rex.


End file.
